Ailinuo’s pure, innocent eyes were more lethal than any torture.
Seraphina couldn’t even find a place to lie. In the end, with a hint of self-abandon, she muttered under her breath,
“Actually… it’s always been… Her Majesty the Demon King… who handles it for me. I never had to… worry about it.”
It sounded like an explanation and like an excuse for her own incompetence.
The moment the words left her mouth she regretted them.
What did that make her? A helpless invalid who couldn’t even take care of herself?
Ailinuo’s eyes widened in undisguised shock.
She had known Seraphina was Movira’s “younger sister,” but she had never imagined the elder sister cared for the younger to such an exhaustive degree.
Seeing the mixture of shame and annoyance on Seraphina’s face, Ailinuo swallowed the question on the tip of her tongue.
After a moment’s thought, she spoke with even deeper respect.
“I see… Her Majesty truly looks after you in every possible way.”
“Also, Your Highness, this is the tea Her Majesty just asked me to brew. It helps relieve… the discomfort. Please drink it while it’s hot.”
Ailinuo’s attitude was utterly sincere, wishing only to ease Seraphina’s suffering without the slightest overstep.
Yet to Seraphina, already aching and inexplicably irritable, those words felt like mockery.
She couldn’t pinpoint why, but her instincts twisted the kindness into ridicule.
“Enough!”
Her voice suddenly turned icy. She straightened abruptly despite the pain, forcing it down with sheer will.
“My affairs… I will handle myself. I don’t need you!”
The refusal came sharp and decisive, tinged with misdirected anger.
But the moment the words were out, she saw Ailinuo’s smile freeze, saw the hurt flickering in those crimson eyes.
“I didn’t mean…”
Regret hit instantly, but the apology stuck in her throat and only turned into a weak,
“You may leave.”
Ailinuo paused, then quietly obeyed, retreating from the study.
Before closing the door she couldn’t help adding softly,
“If you change your mind, I’m always here.”
The door shut with a gentle click. Confusion and dejection lingered on her face.
Outside the door…
“Your Majesty?!”
“Shh. Seraphina gets like that every time this day comes. A little irritable. She’ll apologise to you later.”
“N-no, I wasn’t blaming Her Highness at all!”
…
Inside the study, Seraphina clutched her head and collapsed onto the desk, muttering nonstop.
“Damn it… what is wrong with me?!”
She raised her violet eyes; the usual calm was gone, replaced by restless fury.
Every time she recalled Ailinuo’s final wounded look, she pinched her own thigh hard, trying to use pain to drown the guilt.
Ailinuo had done nothing wrong, had been perfectly considerate, yet she had snapped at her.
Why?
Seraphina felt as though something inside her had broken. Where was the clever, composed self she used to be?
Unintentionally, her elbow nearly knocked over the tea on the desk.
Ailinuo had said… Movira had ordered this tea for her?
Why was it always Movira again?!
“I really want to curse you…”
She slumped sideways, staring at the steaming cup. The bitter yet strangely alluring fragrance curled into her nose.
Physical ache and mental irritation tangled together, leaving her unable to think straight.
“Damn it all…”
She cursed under her breath, but still reached out. The supposedly bitter tea exploded with refreshing clarity the moment it touched her tongue.
She sipped slowly. The warm liquid slid down her throat, soothing the chaos inside.
Tense nerves gradually relaxed; drowsiness rose like a tide, eyelids growing heavier.
The conversation with Dekrian, the guilt over snapping at Ailinuo, all the tangled thoughts dissolved in that cup of tea.
She fell asleep with her face on the desk, empty cup still clutched in her hand.
Less than five minutes later, the study door opened again.
Movira slipped in silently, gaze softening as it fell on the girl sprawled across the desk.
She reached out, gently smoothing the hair from Seraphina’s forehead, light as though afraid to wake a dream.
“Stubborn little thing…”
The words were helpless yet drowning in affection.
She removed her own outer robe and draped it over Seraphina’s shoulders, then bent down and carefully scooped her up in a princess carry.
The sleeping girl instinctively sought warmth, burrowing closer to Movira’s chest, mumbling incoherent dream-talk.
Movira carried her steadily back to the bedroom, laid her on the wide, soft bed, and tucked her in with care…
She sat at the bedside for a long while, simply watching, before finally rising to leave.
…
When Seraphina woke again, she blinked in confusion.
She was lying in Movira’s bed, covered in soft quilts.
Morning light filtered through the window, telling her she had slept the entire day and night away.
The discomfort had greatly eased. She still felt weak and cottony, but the soul-crushing pain and the inexplicable irritability were gone.
Movira, unusually, was nowhere to be seen.
And Seraphina could not fall back asleep.
Dawn. The Demon King’s Castle lay wrapped in rare silence.
Feeling strangely light, she tightened the collar of the neat black lounge-wear she now wore and walked with steady steps toward the cloister.
In the empty castle, only the soft tap-tap of her shoes on cold stone broke the pre-dawn stillness.
She headed straight for the central courtyard. Pale beams from the vast skylight dome illuminated the floating, glowing plants.
In the past she would never have spared them a glance, but now she stood with arms folded, quietly watching their slow, rhythmic pulsing.
In the centre pool of dark, shimmering liquid, her tall reflection stared back.
Unknowingly… she had grown quite a bit taller since arriving.
She turned, hands clasped behind her back, pacing the courtyard. Crystal lamps along the walls lit one by one at the sound of her footsteps, stretching her shadow long across the floor…
Finally she stopped before a huge arched window that looked out over the gradually brightening horizon of the Demon Realm.
“Calm before the storm…”
Her violet eyes were deep, as though they could already see the farthest edge of the Demon Realm.